


His Angel

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Drabble, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-06
Updated: 2006-09-06
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: She is his angel





	His Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Time means nothing anymore. Not here in this cold and dark cell where the nights and days pass without change. Candlelight is enough to cause blinking and confusion. It's been dark for so long. Footsteps on damp stone, soft glow from a wand, candles brought to life with a whispered word. Cringing and hiding in the corner. No, not again. Light is bad. Dark means escape, empty mind and no touch. Eyes closed tight. Ignore it and it might go away. Gentle hands on cheeks, jaw, throat. Whimpering and shuddering. _No. Don't want this. Want darkness. Don't make me open my eyes._ Robes removed and water cleaning away days of filth and grime. So soft and tender. Relaxing. Eyes still shut. Lips around a cock. Sucking and licking. Body reacting. Sweat and sex. Warm and wet, tight, so tight. Words in ears, whispers and promises. A low growl, a soft moan, and then eyes fly open. Watch her move, breasts full and bouncing, body curvy and slender, hair a mess of curls. The light behind her makes her an angel. His angel. And as he comes, he sees stars and tastes fire. Then she asks him the same question and he hesitates, wanting to say yes, to follow her into the light. Instead, he feels a burning on his arm and memories of blood and death and he closes his mouth. She sighs and cleans herself before leaving his cell. And he welcomes the familiar darkness because she, the light, it scares him.  



End file.
